One Change and Gone
by book muncher
Summary: A person never NEEDS to do anything, particularly when they've already lived one life and then lost everything they loved. No need to risk it all again especially when they already know how the deck is stacked. But plans rarely work when everyone has their own idea of what and who is most important, and the powerless are never at the top of anyone's list.*A grittier take on SI/OC.*
1. Life and Death

**_DISCLARMER_ : _This is a blanket disclaimer, I will NOT be repeating it! So please pay attention!_ I don't own anything of 'Naruto.' Not the names, places, characters, concept, nothing! They belong to the creators/writer/authors/ect which does not include me, sadly.**

 **Note!** The main character, Yori, is specifically gender neutral. This was done to make the character easier to relate to (girl to girl or boy to boy).

* * *

 **Life and Death**

* * *

The newborn baby was a small and sickly thing, as was expected of an infant born several weeks too early, but that was not why the medics were so worried. Rather, it was because of the babe's drastic and unexplainably high spiritual chakra. The parents were informed that the child would have to stay for observation, and that survival was. . .not likely. The parents left, heartbroken and devastated, and the screaming infant was rushed to research and intensive care. Despite the doctors' initial prognosis the child lived through the night and many following. After several weeks spent trying to find a cause and coming up short, one of the younger doctors had the idea to copy Tsunade's yin seal and place it on the child as a means of filtering and storing the excess spiritual chakra.

It worked. Well enough.

The child was still sickly, and the general opinion of the medical staff was that (the over abundant spiritual chakra combined with being several weeks premature would mean) the child would never be completely healthy.

Kazehana Seiji and his wife Hoshi didn't care. Their baby was alive and that was all that mattered. The fact that they were able to sleep through the night from day one was a huge bonus, and the small family of three settled into a comfortable and happy pattern of normalcy. As normal as a family with a shinobi for a father, a nurse for a mother, and a premature, sickly infant could be. To the rest of the village they were (yet) another oddity, but the trio lived in relatively happy denial of the fact for nearly four years.

Hoshi went first. A badly injured shinobi lashed out instinctively at the feel of foreign chakra in the middle of a healing and she reacted just a second too slow. It was a quick, clean death and, while not common, also not unheard of, but it cast a shadow over the now much smaller family.

Seiji wallowed in the pain of loss until a small hand poked him in the knee, the highest point it could reach.

" _If Mommy was here_ , _she'd smack you_."

After gaping at the much too small and still sickly looking four year old, Seiji squared his shoulders and made a request. The next day the two were at the hospital, Seiji helping the staff by restraining the injured and his child being cooed at by various personnel. The hospital quickly became a second home for both father and child. The new routine lasted three months before Seiji was called out for a mission. He returned covered in blood and carried into the hospital by his teammates where they were greeted by nurses screaming for help and one small, sickly looking child.

"I'm. . . sorry, Yori." Seiji raised shaky, blood encrusted hand and gently traced the lines of his child's face. "I cou. . .couldn't. . .keep my. . .promise."

Despite his teammates rushed efforts they arrived too late. Seiji died in the lobby waiting for help.

 ***** _death hurts the living most_ *****

Death has a way of ending many more things than just life, and that day it ended Yori's innocence; innocence that had kept at bay so many more brutal and ugly truths. Truths that should never have been remembered or even have existed.

Yori screamed. Screamed from the loss of a loving father. Screamed at the knowledge of being completely and utterly alone. Screamed at the pain of remembering losses of so long ago but just as great and painful. Screamed because, despite suddenly being so much older mentally, Yori was still only four and screaming was all such a young child could do.


	2. Burying Innocence

**Burying Innocence**

* * *

Sarutobi Hiruzen stared at the tiny child and fought the urge to grimace. A small bony body, sallow pasty skin, lank black hair, and dark purple shadows under the eyes gave the impression the child was patient, _should_ be a patient, at the hospital rather than just a constant visitor. He glanced at the silent shadow next to him and received a small nod.

Yes, this was indeed the child. Letting out the smallest of sighs, the Hokage made his presence known and walked out into the open.

He hated doing this. Hated seeing the effects some of his orders had. Hated knowing that he was only doing this to keep dissention and hatred from growing in the village. _Hated it_. So he chose to focus on the good. Chose to focus on doing his best to make each and every child feel loved and wanted. . .and chose to ignore that it would most likely be the last time. Chose to forget that this child would be swept up into the same lifestyle that had claimed the lives of Kazehana Seiji and Hoshi and so many others, because a person could only continue to survive under so much guilt.

The young nurse that been asked to bring the child smiled and bowed before leaving the two alone in front of the Memorial Stone. Hiruzen remained silent until the nurse was no longer visible and his shadow had retreated to a respectable distance. Once they were as alone as they were going to get he smiled, making his presence as approachable and likeable as possible.

"Hello, little one. Do you know who I am?" His tone was warm and gentle, not a hint of his inner loathing for the act he was about to perform.

Brown eyes looked up at him before falling back down to the forehead protector laying on the ground in front of the Stone.

" _Yes_." The voice was so soft and whispery, the Hokage wanted to cringe. The child even _sounded_ ill. " _You_ ' _re the man who made Daddy break his promise_."

There was no anger or hurt in the child's voice. The words were stated as a simple fact.

"And what did he promise you?" He asked gently, silently thinking– _hoping_ –it was something simple he could get the four year old. A toy, or maybe some candy.

" _That I would never be alone_."

Ah, guilt. If he didn't know better Hiruzen would say the child was _trying_ to make him squirm.

 ***** _can't you hear my breaking heart_ *****

"You're not alone."

' _Yes, I am_ ,' Yori thought bitterly.

"Your parents are right here." The old man tapped the Memorial Stone. "As are everyone who has sacrificed for this village."

" _That_ ' _s a rock_."

"Yes," the Hokage agreed lightly, placing a hand on Yori's head. "But it's a special rock."

' _No_ , _it_ ' _s not_ ,' Yori thought angrily. ' _Can it hug me_? _Can it hold me when I_ ' _m scared or lonely_? _Can it smile at me_? _Can it tell me it loves me_? _No_ , _no it_ _ **can**_ **'** ** _t_**! _And stop touching me_! _I know why_ _you_ ' _re_ **_really_** _here_ , _and I don_ ' _t_ _like it_. _Go away_! _Leave me alone_!'

"With every name carved onto this Stone our Will of Fire grows stronger," the man continued, running a hand through the trembling child's hair. "Your mother and father may have died–"

' _May_? **_May_**?! _They_ _ **did**_ _die_! _And it_ ' _s all_ _ **your**_ _fault_!'

"–but their will to protect this village lives on and will never, _can_ never die. Just as their love for you will last forever."

' _Stop it_! _Stop lying to me_! _Stop pr-pretending to care_! _Just stop it_ , _stopit_ _ **stop it**_!'

Warm arms wrapped around Yori as the Hokage hugged the child close, allowing his robes to be stained with tears and heedless Yori's internal screaming.

' _You don_ ' _t care_! _Not about me_! _You_ ' _re only doing this to get rid of your guilt_! _You don_ ' _t give a d_ - _damn about me_! _And once you walk away you_ ' _ll forg-get me_. _I_ ' _ll be alone_. _A-alone and for-forgotten and unloved until I d-die_!'

"Carry their Will, Yori," The Hokage said, gently but firmly as he handed the engraved metal plate to Yori. "Live up to your name."

' _Wait_. _Please_!'

The Hokage gently pried his robe free of the tiny, clinging fingers.

' _Don_ ' _t_! _Please_ , _don_ ' _t leave me_! _I don_ ' _t want to be alone_! _Please_! **_Please_**!'

Sarutobi Hiruzen walked away, leaving the still sobbing four year old at the Memorial.


	3. Decisions

**Decisions**

* * *

The orphanage matron watched as the new child, one Kazehana Yori, ambled off in the direction of the hospital and sighed. Since the not quite five year old's first day, she had had to go retrieve the child from the hospital. The first time it had happened she had asked if Yori was sick only to get an innocent smile and a heart wrenching:

" _I'm waiting for Mommy and Daddy_. _Daddy promised I'd never be alone_ , _and the old man with the hat said I wasn_ ' _t, so they must be coming back_."

The matron hadn't the heart to tell the toddler sized four year old that 'Mommy' and 'Daddy' weren't coming back, so ever day she would let the child go and, after a few hours, bring her new charge back. Other than the daily wanderings, the matron was pleased her newest charge seemed to have no problems adjusting. Though she did find it odd how fascinating Yori seemed to find the blonde haired children. Concern soon faded when it became apparent Yori had no ill intent and Yori soon drifted from the matron's mind.

 ***** _I just want what I lost_ *****

Namikaze Minato trailed after his mother, one hand loosely fisted in her skirts with the other clutching a bag of groceries. He laughed and smiled happily as he told the woman all about his day, eyes never straying to the building that was nestled just outside the market but still in sight of the patrons and completely unaware of the child watching him from a window high above the streets.

" _He looks so much like Michael when he laughs_." Yori muttered, heart twisting painfully at the thought of another blonde haired, blue eyed little boy and lips pulling into a bitter sneer. " _You know_ , _you_ ' _ve_ _got it so unbelievably easy_. _You got looks_ , _smarts_ , _skill_ , _and luck_. _It really_ _isn_ ' _t fair_. _Most people only get two at most_ , _the truly lucky get three_ , _but you_! _Oh_ _ **you**_ , _Minato_ , _get all four_. _It really_ , **_really_** _isn_ ' _t fair_ , _and ya know_? _It kinda makes me mad_. _In fact I think I hate you_."

Fingernails dug into the wall, leaving a trail of little scratches in the paint. It didn't matter that the blonde boy would never hear the words. Every broken heart needed something to rage at, and Namikaze Minato was Yori's perfect target.

" _Yes_ , _I_ _ **hate**_ _you_ ," Yori hissed, voice becoming shakier with every word. " _You get it all_. **_Everything_**! _And it_ ' _s just handed to you_. _Oh sure_ , _you have to do some work_ _and_ ' _oh_ , _poor little orphan Minato_.' _Well_ , _new flash buddy_. **_Half the people in the_** **_god forsaken world are orphans_**. _Hell_ , _at least a third in_ – _in that other place were orphans too_ , _so that_ ' _s hardly a fair trade given the universe practically throws everything at_. _Your_. _Feet._ _ **Especially since it seems you're NOT REALLY AN Orphan!**_ _At least not yet._ "

The fingers that weren't trying to gouge a whole in the wall clenched in a tight fist, nails drawing tiny, bloody half moons.

" _It isn_ ' _t_ – _it_ ' _s not supposed to be you_ , _it was supposed to be him_! _I was supposed to hear_ _ **him**_ _laugh_ , _see_ _ **him**_ _smile_ , _watch_ _ **him**_ _grow up_ , _not_ _ **you**_!" Brown eyes burned with righteous fury as they followed the blonde. " _I was supposed to be there for him_. _To tease him and mess with him when he did something stupid_ , _heckle him when he finally fell in love_ , _help him when he needed but_ _didn_ ' _t want it_ , _punch the lights out of anyone that messed with him_ , _pick him up after his first fight_. . ."

A quiet sob filtered through the room and Yori slumped to the floor, body giving out under the weight of pain and exhaustion.

" _I was su_ - _supposed to be there for my b_ - ** _brother_**!"

After several minutes glaring at the tear drops on the floor, Yori sighed and leaned against the wall.

" _I guess I can't deny it any longer, there are just too many similarities_." Brown eyes that were far too old and wise to belong to a child drifted to the window and the faces carved on a distant mountain side. A sigh far too world weary to come from a five year old drifted through the room as a hand ran through shoulder length black hair.

" _I don't want to fight, and I sure as_ _ **hell**_ _don't want be in a war. I am. . .not the hero type. I don't believe in 'happily ever afters' and saving the world. . .I don't really believe that's possible. Though if I remember correctly you, Namikaze Minato, tried pretty damn hard_." Yori's fingers itched with a phantom urge to brush blonde hair out of a young boy's bright eyes. " _So much like Michael, he liked to believe in the impossible too._ "

Yori heart panged with longing and grief.

" _One change. For him, for Michael, I will make one change. Whether it helps or not. . ._ "

The words hung in the air unheard by any except the speaker who thoughts were focused on the following day.


	4. Finding Purpose

**Finding Purpose**

* * *

The pile wobbled dangerously, and for one heart stopping moment he thought for sure it was going to fall, but then it stilled and he was able to breathe a sigh of relief.

" _May I help you_?"

"Yes, _please_!" He wasn't begging, just accepting enthusiastically. He firmly ignored the quiet laughter that reached his ears as small hands removed the top most files. "Thanks, Yori. These need to go into the back room, so just follow me."

" _Lead on_ , _Nakamura_ - _san_!"

It was quiet save the soft humming coming from his tiny helper, but that was fine. The young man liked the quiet, and the strange melody was rather relaxing.

"And here we are," Nakamura grunted, placing the stack of files on a table.

" _Would you like help sorting them_?"

Nakamura blinked down at the waist high seven year old.

"Sure, kid," he replied, ruffling Yori's hair and ignoring the protesting squawk. "Help is always something we need back here."

" _Hey, Nakamura_ -s _an_ , _do you think that maybe you could, um, teach me some stuff_?"

"Teach you some stuff?" Nakamura repeated, pausing in the middle of shelving a couple files and looking down. "By 'stuff' you mean medical nin-jutsu?"

Yori nodded.

"And why do you want to learn medical ninjutsu?" Nakamura asked, careful to keep any of his emotions from showing but still sound pleasant. The request didn't surprise him given that the kid practically lived in the hospital, but he was curious as to the reason. Whether that curiosity was because of a certain betting circle. . .

" _I_. . . _I don_ ' _t_ – _I want to help keep families together_."

Nakamura's heart may have just broken a little. He had been working in the field when Yori's father died, but he'd heard the story often enough to know that the kid had been there when the man was brought in and died.

"I," his voice cracked a little and he cleared his throat, because of the dust! Not because the kid's big, brown eyes were all but begging him. It was also the dusts' fault his eyes were a bit watery. "I think that's a great reason. I'll see what I can do."

" _Thank you, Nakamura_ - _san_!" Yori shouted, wrapping arms and legs around the man in a full body 'hug of gratitude.'

"No problem, squirt." Nakamura muttered. They needed to do something about the temperature down here, it was too warm. Yes, that was why his face felt a bit flushed. Definitely not because the kid had the damn near cutest smile he'd ever seen. Nope, definitely not.

" _I can_ ' _t wait to start learning from you_ , _Nakamura_ - _sensei_!"

. . .Damn it! So maybe the kid was a little cute.

 ***** _To the lonely, hope is poisonous and kindness is cruel/can kill_ *****

"Yori! Yori! Yoooorrrriiiiii!"

" _Hello, Kenji_ ," Yori sighed as a small blonde launched himself at the sickly looking seven year old leaving the hospital.

"How'd it go?" Kenji asked eagerly, still clinging to Yori's over sized jacket.

" _Nakamura-san has agreed to teach some basic skills_ ," Yori answered, smiling slightly.

Finally, after so many years of just watching, all that knowledge and experience from a life long gone could be used again. To be back to actually _working_ in the medical field and learning new things and more, to do the impossible!

Yori's smile widened at the thought.

"Hehehe."

" _What are you so happy about_?" Yori asked, glancing down at the giggling blonde.

"I'm happy, you're happy," Kenji answered, beaming brightly.

Yori huffed, savagely ruffling the slightly younger boy's hair, and quickly walking away when Kenji paused to try and fix it. If Yori truly wanted to, it wouldn't be that hard to ditch the five year old, but. . . But it was too late for that now.

Despite Yori's best efforts to stay as far from any and all important, or possibly important, people and really anyone at all, staying away from Kenji had proven. . . Well, damn near _impossible_. Not for lack of trying on Yori's part though.

For nearly a year Yori had striven to stay as far away from the little blonde brat as possible, but there were moments when it was impossible such as when they were sat next to each other during meals or when Yori was assigned to help Kenji with learning to read or write or bathe. It was those moments, when Yori was forced to look and interact with the boy, that were the most painful. The near clone of a long dead brother, so innocent and happy and eager to please, and worst of all _there_ and _alive_!

It started simply enough, in a brief moment of forgetting who Kenji actually was, Yori smiled and teased with all the sibling love once shown to a different yet so frighteningly similar boy. It only took a few such instances and Kenji decided Yori would make the perfect sibling.

By the end of Yori's first year in the orphanage, Kenji had won and Yori had a new younger brother. There were still times Yori tried to drive Kenji away, but they were few and far between, and Kenji always came back.

A small hand brushed against Yori's fingers, and Yori glanced over to see Kenji firmly looking ahead and frantically biting his lip. Yori's eyes rolled heaven ward. Despite his stubbornness and maturity and Yori's resignation, Kenji was still an insecure little boy.

" _Stop moving so slowly_ ," Yori scolded gruffly, taking Kenji's hand and tugging him along. " _I want yakitori and if you don't hurry up they'll be all out_."

"I thought you hated yakitori," Kenji said, sounding far too innocent. "Besides, the dinner rush doesn't start for another hour."

" _Shut up_ ," Yori snapped, vainly trying to will away the rising flush. " _You're such an annoying little twerp_."

"Yeah, but I'm _your_ annoying twerp," Kenji replied happily, unaware just how precious and painful those words were. Yori's hand tightened around Kenji's, and the younger boy's smile widened even though the grip became almost painful.

' _Yes, you are, and for that, I think I might lo-like ya._ '


End file.
